A Bard's Story: Here There Be Dragons

Chapter Nineteen

The autumn day dawns cool and crisp in Talerin. On the way to practice with the Holy Order, Geri smells snow on the horizon, and excitedly remarks on that to Oren.

"I'm pretty sure you're imagining things," Oren says dismissively.

"Yeah, but — wouldn't it be great if it snowed?" Geri says. His tone is wistful and hopeful, gand Oren's pretty sure that if the path between the inn and their house weren't so well-trod, Geri would lose his footing.

"Not in October," Oren says. "It's not winter yet. Give it some time, will you?"

"What do you have against winter, anyway?" Geri asks.

"It's not winter, it's..." Oren sighs. The truth is that it's coming up on a year since the inn burned, and that's not something he's liked thinking about. "The Holy Order is here, right? And they've been here for a while... and we haven't seen the dragon for a while, either."

"Oh, so again you want to embark on some adventure just in time for the snows to strand us somewhere."

I'd like to finally get out of Talerin, Oren thinks. "I really don't think Leyha and Kehdem are coming back."

Geri gives his friend a sidelong glance, but they've reached the inn and the Holy Order's campground, so their discussion faces certain interruptions. "They've only been gone six months," Geri points out.

"Yeah, well," Oren says as they head to Sten's tent to retrieve their spare swords. "If we leave now, we still have time to make it to the capital before the real snows come."

Geri opens his mouth to argue, but Oren makes sure he doesn't get any further by loudly greeting Tosun who's halfway across the training yard. From there, it's easy to get swept up in the routine of practice and smacking each other with wooden swords. Both the boys are getting noticeably better — they pair up with actual members of the Holy Order, sometimes, and they don't always lose. They do more often than not, of course, but then they've barely had a year of practice, while most of the Holy Order has had more than a decade. Holding their own is enough of an accomplishment.

Somewhere around midday, the large, boisterous group piles into the inn and is served stew by familiar faces. Even Mona has taken to following Sara around, providing a second tray of food if not actually serving herself. With Jesi and Marta come back as serving girls, it's a well-run affair, and everyone gets their food quickly.

Oren and Geri settle in their usual seats by the hearth. By now, the inn just feels like the inn — not the one Oren grew up in, of course, but it's not really new anymore, either. In fact, Oren notices a few unfamiliar faces around the room. The Holy Order has become a fixture at the meals the inn serves, but there are enough of them that everyone is far more comfortable when the Holy Order sleeps in its camp. However, it looks like the inn's rooms are finally getting used, and for paying customers — one pair of travelers, at least, looks wealthy enough to buy the whole town of Talerin, if they really wanted.

As Sara passes Oren a bowl, he says, "I hope you stocked up on wine," with a meaningful glance towards the wealthy travelers.

"Actually, they've been pretty nice so far," Sara says conspiratorially. "See the big one?"

It would be hard not to, what with his size — harder still to say that he wasn't a foreigner, with the absurdly heavy wool cap pulled snug over his head. Oren nods to Sara.

"He's apparently looking for his sister. He says he'll pay good money to anyone who helps him find her."

"And what does this have to do with us?" Oren asks.